Smooth Operator
by vicodin-vixens
Summary: Love is but a phone call away. Dialogue only. Warning: Slash We own nothing, not even a long-distance calling card.


Hello?

Do you miss me?

House?

It's the Queen of England, actually.

Of course. I was expecting your call, Your Majesty.

Your Majesty. I like that.

I'm not surprised. What do you want?

I repeat: Do you miss me?

I've only been gone three hours!

If I haven't had a Vicodin in three hours, I miss it.

Are you telling me I'm as addictive as Vicodin?!

Of course not. I was merely making a point.

You made your point. What do you want?

Are you alone?

Yes.

Are you naked?

What? No, I'm not naked! I have to give a lecture in twenty minutes. Spit it out, House. What do you want?

God, you're thick, Wilson. Phone sex, you idiot.

What?!

I want you to talk dirty to me.

Have you lost your mind?! Didn't you hear me say I have a speech in twenty minutes?

Wilson, if you can't get me off in less than twenty minutes, we have to re-evaluate our relationship.

My answer is still no, House.

You're such a prude.

I am not!

Prove it.

You're mad. We are not having phone sex.

I'll start. We're in the clinic. Exam room three.

The clinic?! You're a sick man, House.

You really are a prude if you've never considered having sex at work.

Well, I've thought about it, but...

Aha! I knew you had a kinky streak to you.

Yes. How I ever managed to keep that from you is beyond me.

Tell you what. Why don't you pretend that, just this once, you get to fuck me?

Why?

I know you want to. Maybe if you're convincing enough, I'll let you try it when you get home.

Are you being serious?

Pretend I am.

I can't believe I'm going to do this.

That's the spirit. Ravage my crippled body, you beast.

Um. Where do I start?

Right, I forgot I was popping your phone sex cherry. Just tell me what you're going to do to me once you get home from Miami.

I'm in Chicago, House.

Whatever. Just talk dirty to me, already.

What....what will you be doing?

Jesus Christ, what do you think? I thought I might fold laundry, perhaps do the dishes. You really are a moron.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea.

Of course it is! Ok. I'm sorry. Listen for the sound of enthusiastic masturbating.

Really?

Only if you start talking dirty right NOW.

Ok, ok. Um. Right, well, we're in exam room three, and I uh, push you up against the door and kiss you.

Go on.

As I slide my tongue past your lips, into your mouth, my hand moves down your chest and I undo your pants.

I like where this is going.

I push your pants to the floor and take your stiff member into my hand.

I'm sorry-did you just say member?

Um, yes?

Member of what? The Hard Dick Society?

I told you I can't do this!

Relax, I'm playing with you. My stiff member is in my hands as we speak. Continue.

Ok. I give it a few slow strokes.

Mmmm. Yes.

And look down at the moisture leaking from the love hole as it winks open.

My love hole? It winked at you? Holy shit.

Shut up and listen.

Alrighty then.

I bend you over the exam table, listening to the soft rustle of the paper sheets.

Paper sheets always did turn me on.

House-

Ok. Ok.

I drop my pants and press tightly up against your ass. Your staff jumps in my hand.

Which one?

You have more than one?!

Obviously. You know that. I have three.

What are we talking about here?

Staff. I have Chase, Cameron and Foreman. I need to know which one jumped in your hand. I might be able to be talked into having a three-way with Chase, possibly even Cameron, but if it's Foreman, I'm outta there.

I didn't mean _that_ staff.

Ohh. You meant- right. That makes much more sense. Go on.

Will you stop making fun of me?

Will you stop using names like 'member' and 'staff'?

Yes.

I'm all ears.

In the drawer behind me, I find a package of lubricant-

Convenient.

I coat my fingers and slowly slide one digit into your puckered glory hole.

For God's sake, Wilson.

Shut up. You wanted me to do this, now shut up and listen.

Go ahead.

I find that spot, that tight bundle of nerves and stroke my fingers against it.

Not bad.

When I think you're ready, I thrust my hips forward and stab you with my weapon-

Wilson-

Pounding away furiously, nearly on the verge of unleashing my man-juice.

Stop! Oh, for the love of God, stop!

What now?

Weapon? Man-juice?

What's wrong with that?

Never mind. This was obviously a bad idea.

I told you that from the start!

Yeah, well, maybe next time.

There's going to be a next time?!

After I give you some lessons.

Phone sex lessons?

Everyone should have them.

I guess I didn't convince you then?

That's a safe assumption.

I'll see you in two days.

Bring your weapon.

Goodbye, House.

My staff and I will be waiting.

Goodbye.

Bye Wilson.


End file.
